The Endless Night
by 101Obsessions
Summary: DL-6 is resolved, but will Edgeworth's nightmare end? For the first time in fifteen years, he finally finds the courage to take a more physical trip down memory lane...


_**_**Songfics are my kink, it appears. I love writing them for the AA-verse.**_  
>I know it's been done before, both the going-to-the-house and the visiting of the grave. But I haven't seen it done with this song.<strong>_

_**I love 'Endless Night', and it fits Miles so perfectly. So I wrote this, set just after the resolution of DL-6 (maybe the evening when the truth gets out?)**_

_**Sorry, it's not my best. It's procrastinating from lecture note write ups, actually. I apologise again.**_

_**Disclaimer: Miles and Gregory Edgeworth (c) Capcom, Endless Night (c) Lion King Broadway, Lebo M, Hans Zimmer, Jay Rifkin and Jason Raise.**_

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><p><em>Where has the starlight gone?<em>

_Dark is the day_

_How can I find my way home?_

Miles sat in his car, staring out of the driver's side window at the building. It might have been his intention to go inside, but his hands hadn't left the steering wheel, hadn't reached down to unlock the door. He made no movement at all.

The building wasn't foreboding, not to the average person, no matter the darkness of the winter's night. It was a pretty little house, or once had been, for now it was clear that no one had lived in this house for a very long time. The paint was peeling, the gate was rusty, the plants had grown wild with no one to tend them for fifteen years.

His father's house. No, now it was _his_ house. Legally, it had been his for over a decade, even though he'd never been back.

He'd once called this place 'home'.

_Home is an empty dream_

_Lost to the night_

He didn't know how he'd done it – he was in the garden, walking through the old plants, seeing the remnants of his childhood here – that rosebush in the corner, he'd helped his father plant that, helped him bud it in the autumn – those daisies, the ones he knew were buried under the layer of icy snow, he used to pick them as a boy, put the ragged mess in a mug and give it to his father for the windowsill-

His fingers were on the door handle, other hand clutching keys that hovered by the lock. He stared numbly down at them, his breath a cloud in the air that blurred his vision. Could he really go back? Now?

The key entered the lock, turned. A click, surprisingly loud for a lock fifteen-years unused.

It was the click that did it. Miles trembled, then turned and ran, leaving the keys in the lock, just desperate to get away, away from this place before the tears ran down his face.

His vision blurred dangerously as he drove furiously away, but he didn't wipe the tears away. It was late, there was no traffic. And he knew exactly where he was going.

He stumbled out of the car, not caring that it wasn't straight in its spot, but turning and walking quickly through the iron gates, the cold wind biting at his wet face.

_You promised you'd be there_

_Whenever I needed you_

He stopped, heaving for breath, the air's icy fingers plunging down his throat. He blinked, clearing his vision just to see, even in the light from the cloudy sky, he was exactly where he wanted to be.

Unsteadily, he knelt. The word was out of his mouth before he could stop himself.

"F-father…"

_Whenever I call your name_

_You're not anywhere_

He reached out, fingers brushing the snow from the face of the grave. His gloves traced the letters, the ones he'd been staring at that day, fifteen years ago, in the rain, trying not to cry. Now, he couldn't stop, no matter how furiously he wiped his eyes or sniffed piteously.

"Father…"

_I'm trying to hold on_

_Just waiting to hear your voice_

He rocked forward, arms tight around himself, shaking as the grief he'd been suppressing for all this time finally fought its way out, finally, _finally _let him cry.

Words choked out of his mouth.

"Father, I'm s-sorry! All this time, I-I- everything you wanted me to be, I-"

He couldn't go on, sobbing too hard to speak, to draw breath. He was trembling as though the world were shaking around him, closing in with cold dark metal walls.

_One word, just a word will do_

_To end this nightmare_

He finally looked up, tears on his eyelashes turning the cold light of the moon into an icy kaleidoscope in his eyes. He brushed a gloved hand across his face, focusing with difficulty on his father's name again.

_When you were by my side_

_Guiding my path_

_Father, I can't find the way_

His fingers reached out, clutched the stone of the grave for support. Maybe it was the fevered thoughts of grief, but the grave felt warm under his hand. As warm as the hand that used to hold his, when he was just a child.

_You promised you'd be there_

_Whenever I needed you_

_Whenever I call your name_

_You're not anywhere_

_I'm trying to hold on_

_Just waiting to hear your voice_

_One word, just a word will do_

_To end this nightmare_

He crouched there, awkward in the snow, fingers holding the stone tight. The tears ran out – his wet face stung from the wind, but he could see clearly again. As rose-fingered sunrise crept over the sky, a strange sense of calm washed over him.

Slowly, he relinquished his hold on the stone, vaguely registering the stiffness of his cold hand. He could only have been there minutes, but it had felt like hours.

Collected now, he looked sadly at the grave, eyes tracing the small inscription at the bottom that told the reader that Gregory Edgeworth had left behind one son.

'And, despite everything, that son is me.'

The suddenness of that thought surprised him, but he managed to straighten, back and hips protesting at having knelt in such an unnatural position for so long.

Above him, the clouds dispersed. The weak sun, just risen, touched the back of his head, and he felt the meagre warmth down his neck as he looked down, one last time, at the burial place of his father.

_I know that the night must end_

_And that the sun will rise_

_And that the sun will rise_

_I know that the clouds must clear_

_And that the sun will shine_

_And that the sun will shine_

Very slowly, Miles Edgeworth turned away, following his own footprints out of the cemetery. His face was blotchy, his breathing uneven, but there was still that spark in his eye, the determination that he wore throughout court and all other aspects of his life.

He slid into the driver's seat, not having to look back at the cemetery, not having to check the mirrors to know the place where his father rested was melting away into the mist behind him. He knew precisely where he was going.

_I know_

_Yes, I know_

_The sun will rise_

_Yes, I know_

_I know_

_The clouds must clear_

He stepped out of the car, greeted by the rays of the winter sun, and headed up the path to the door, where the keys still hung from the lock. He reached out, this time sure of himself. He needed to face these memories, before he lost the chance forever.

_I know that the night must end_

_I know that the sun will rise_

_And I'll hear your voice deep inside_

It only took a small push to open the door. And then, after so long, he stepped inside.


End file.
